


awakening

by silkscrub



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Concussions, Gen, Head Injury, I'm Sorry, One Shot, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22140331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkscrub/pseuds/silkscrub
Summary: Peter accidentally brings Miles on a potentially fatal mission.
Relationships: Miles Morales & Peter B. Parker
Comments: 6
Kudos: 72





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first piece! Yay for trying something new! I spent a disappointing amount of time writing this, but honestly roast me anyway if you want. I'll take anything.

Peter blinks hard. He’s not dead.

The pavement is cold and wet on his cheek. He’s just conscious enough to see Scorpion relax at the sight of the prone, incapacitated form of his enemies.

 _¡Intente algo diferente la próxima vez!_ The beast cackles, and he makes an easy escape, his massive limbs crawling over crushed cars. His barbaric laughter echoes in Peter's ears long after he disappears from view.

Peter shifts to his elbows, takes few deep breaths, and staggers to his feet. His ears scream, and his head reels from forceful impact. His suit is torn and covered in grime. The rain, likewise, showers down heavy and pattering, like the antithesis of applause.

Over the years, Peter had grown accustomed to a particular type of combat from Scorpion. He could rely on Mac's intense grip, his powerful balance, and everything else that came with his heavy, clunky frame. Their fighting styles complemented each other nicely; while Peter had grace and nimbleness, Mac had unbridled strength, and each were capable of the other’s tact to some degree, which kept things interesting. As a result, the battles they shared were fair. Long. Exhausting, certainly.

This time around, Peter knew age would limit his endurance. He also knew Miles needed something to push his endurance. A team-up seemed a perfect opportunity to address both.

Scorpion’s newly-enhanced agility absolutely _blindsided_ Peter. A simple background check would’ve revealed it, but fondness overcame common sense, and he forgot. When they arrived at the scene, Peter immediately noticed the genetic enhancement, and was hesitant to attack.

But here’s the thing: Formidable foes are exactly that. They’re important work, so he went through with the ambush anyway. And because group work suppressed his instinct for improvising, Peter thought, against all logic, that following an organized plan would outweigh the fact that they simply weren't strong enough.

He hardly realized his deadly mistake before they were on the defensive, fighting for their lives. Miles wasn't fast enough to dodge Scorpion's swift tail, and Peter's attempts to anchor his enemy to keep him from catching the kid were unsuccessful--he was kicked off Scorpion's legs like a loose-fitting shoe. Not even Gwen couldn't have handled this, he’s certain, and by the the time he had started yelling at Miles to retreat they were both seized by iron grip of a dark claw and hurled mercilessly at the pavement.

 _Spider-Man!_ Peter calls out, frantic, squinting against the rain in search of his missing teammate. It wouldn't make sense for Miles to be dead, not when everything was so fast, so sudden. And if he was dead, why is everyone important to Peter Parker always in mortal danger in this universe? _What did he do?_

 _Spider-Man!_ He tries again, nearly voiceless, feeling nothing but the cold, empty desperation of needing someone to be alive. The one thing that matters.

Spider-Sense tells him to look left. Peter stumbles over debris, nearly slipping, rain still pelting at his eyes, and slumps to his knees next to where Miles lies sprawled on the ground, hands and feet twitching.

 _Hey, kid,_ Peter whispers. _You alright?_

Miles rolls a little and moans, eye lenses half-open. It’s like a nightmare, except it doesn’t feel real.

 _Can you hear me?_ Gingerly, Peter peels off the rain-soaked mask, and a bloody and shellshocked Miles blinks rapidly, panicked.

 _What are you doing?_ the boy demands, twitching. _Why are you touching me?_ He notices his stained suit. He gasps. _Oh my God! Oh my God, am I gonna die?_

On the inside, Peter blanches--but pure adrenaline feigns a composure so casual it surprises even himself.

 _Not while I’m here,_ he assures. _I wouldn't let that happen._

 _I feel like I’m gonna be sick_ , Miles moans, eyes squeezing shut. 

_Alright, let it out, I got you....y_ _ou're_ _going to be_ _alright, buddy_.....Peter isn't immediately certain, but Spider-Sense concurs. _You're going to be just fine._

In the following minutes, as they wait for help, Peter can do nothing but stroke Miles' forehead and assure him of his bravery. The kid hums in agreement. After the initial shock fades, he expresses concern about going to a hospital, so he's clearly still _himself._ He even jokes about calling an Uber.

And Peter could die right then and there of relief because he'll walk away without losing any part of Miles; he'll still be comically wise beyond his years, funny and friendly a little reluctant, with a comprehensive understanding of most threats. Always social, always kind, always battling his own earnestness.

An overwhelming surge of gratitude sweeps over Peter and he fights tears, thankful for his mask to hide them. It occurs to him that responsibility for another human life is not a burden. It is a gift. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some tender closure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this is about four months late. Let's see if anyone remembers this lol. This is maybe too long but I live for hurt/comfort so sue me.

Miles doesn't remember falling asleep or waking up. He only remembers being on the ground.

He remembers laying on the ground, his reality warped. The earth sat on a tilt; he watched the rain pour down, sparkling as it hit the ground, felt it gently patter and massage against his skin. Rainbow city lights reflecting off rain-glazed streets like a kaleidoscope. A numb weightlessness to his body, as if he were floating through space. An odd, beautiful peace in his mind.

Then, he remembers uncertainty. Peter's voice yelling his name. Understanding something was wrong, just from his tone of voice. Knees flanking his side. Hands probing him. His perception, vivid and dreamlike, but not comprehensive. He couldn't process everything at once--where he was, why he was there, why he couldn't seem to move--nor could he infer anything from what he did know. He knew Scorpion was no longer a threat, but not whether or not he was still there. He knew Peter was helping him, but not _why_ they were together in the first place. He knew he was hurt, but not the gravity of his injuries.

Next thing he knows, he's sitting on the side of a bathtub, watching water drip off his legs and puddle on the tile floor. Peter cursing in that angry way he does when he gets scared. The clear, smooth voice and vibrant hair of who can only be his Mary Jane. The two of them arguing. The word "concussion" being thrown around in different contexts--horror, then reassurance, then practical urgency.

They also keep calling him a "trooper". Miles isn't sure why--he's just sitting there--until he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Soaked, shivering, mud smeared across the apples of his cheeks, hair ruffled and messy, half of his suit hanging pathetic and lopsided off of one shoulder. 

"--feeling?"

Absently, Miles wipes at his lip. Blood rubs off onto his finger. He stares at it. 

"Miles, can you tell us how you're feeling?" MJ repeats.

He tries to peer up to lee her face, but the shining white of the bathroom is too intense for his eyes, and he winces. At the exact moment he thinks he might fall from dizziness, someone steadies him.

"It's bright," he murmurs. Some concerned voices of response, then the lights flicker off. 

"--bleeding anywhere?--"

"--still in shock--"

"--say anything?--"

Miles opens his mouth to speak, but it can't keep up; they're talking too fast. He knows something is really wrong, now, owing to the way his senses still aren't registering his surroundings the way they ought to. Spider-Sense is shut down, but everything else is screaming. If only he could just focus on what they're saying. 

_Spider-Man can handle this,_ he reminds himself. _Spider-Man always gets back up._

He clenches the side of the tub. All he needs is a moment to get this under control, just like he did with all his powers. 

"I'm okay," he repeats, breathless. "I'm okay." It's all he can say. It's not directly what they're asking, but it's what they need to know.

Ultimately, Miles is fine. He knows he's fine because he's not in a hospital, and in fact on a real couch, in a real living room, in the snug box that is Peter's visibly inhabited and very real apartment. Then again, would Spider-Man be able to be treated at a hospital, even if he needed it? The thought makes him shudder.

Regardless, to his infinite relief, he was still able to walk on his own last night. If nothing else, he's still mobile. That didn't stop the equally-immense relief he felt when he finally laid down. 

Peter and MJ didn't let him sleep right away, but they were there, stroking his forehead, making sure he was warm and comfortable, telling him through teary eyes exactly the lies he needed to hear about how strong he was, how everything was fine. He'd be more flattered if they weren't drunk with emotion; they were obviously just happy that he was alive and OK, but if he's being honest, Miles could sympathize. 

He still doesn't remember everything that happened. But he remembers the fear, the way his heart clenched and soul sunk when he realized the odds weren't their favor.

Scorpion is still out there; a danger to the public for every minute he is free. A victory against Spider-Man-- _two_ Spider-Men--will only make him more confident, more encouraged to experiment with his form.

He can't think about this for long. He needs sleep.

The morning begins quietly and comfortably. A deep, throbbing pain appeared Miles' head at some point in the night, but his other senses have since quieted. 

He can listen. He can breathe.

An overhead fan twirls at a low speed, its dull hum filling the room with a cozy white noise. Young sunlight creeps through the window, painting spots of the room in brilliant orange. There's the faint sounds of morning traffic burgeoning outside. Peter snores nearby.

Miles lets out a sigh, his body, his mind, and his soul equal parts weary and content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \---in which Miles turns everyone around him into parents


End file.
